Arts and Krabs
by JohnnyLurg
Summary: Mr. Krabs and Squidward are delighted when world-famous art collector Monty P. Moneybags promises to donate 15 million dollars to the Krusty Krab if any of its employees possess artistic talent. Unfortunately for them, mayhem ensues.


On a blossoming April afternoon, Squidward was reading the new landsuit issue of _Squids Illustrated _while taking customers' orders at the Krusty Krab.

"I'd like a teriyaki patty with a side of sponge fries smothered in mayonnaise," said a blue version of Fred Rechid.

"And I'd like to myself eat this teriyaki patty and its side of sponge fries smothered in mayonnaise in hopes that I may receive a fatal heart attack and be granted freedom from the boredoms of this Neptune-forsaken greasy spork," said Squidward.

Ten seconds later, SpongeBob brought forth to Fred an exotic patty from the birthplace of kay-rah-tay, accompanied with three dozen of SpongeBob's own severed yellow arms, all of which were drenched in an egg-white swill.

"My leg!" cried Fred in delight as he proceeded to walk out of the Krusty Krab while munching his meal. Squidward returned to eyeing his magazine's featured model Squidrina Patridge, before Mr. Krabs burst out of his office with an important announcement.

"Boys! As you should know by now, April 5 is my birthday! And also on April 5, world-famous art collector Monty P. Moneybags will be visiting the Krusty Krab to see if any of our employees has artistic talent. If he finds that one of you are a talented artist, the Krusty Krab will receive fifteen million dollars in funding!"

Squidward put down his magazine in beaming delight. "And will the artists themselves receive any funding or fame?"

"No, but they will receive a raise in pay from a nickel to a dime," said Mr. Krabs.

"Oh boy," said Squidward, and skulked out of his cashier boat to begin working on a new painting of himself with a full head of hair.

Meanwhile, SpongeBob was outside the Krusty Krab, discussing his own artistic ideas with Patrick.

"If we're going to try to impress Mr. Moneybags, we'll have to put in all the effort we've got!" said SpongeBob. "It will take several trips to Bikini Bottom's various art studios, like the Bikini Bottom Photo Shop, the Bikini Bottom Illustrator Adobe, and the Bikini Bottom InDesign…"

"Sounds fancy," said Patrick. "I always thought all you needed to make art was some paint."

SpongeBob pulled some magazines of his own out of his square pants. "According to Art Collectors Weekly, paint hasn't made a splash in the art community since 1995 or 1998."

"We should tell that to Squidward," said Patrick. "He'll be happy to know that none of his art will make a splash."

"What do you mean, make a splash?" asked Squidward, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation. He walked up to his neighbors wearing a red beret and clenching a brush and a half-finished self-portrait in his tentacles. "What could you two barnacleheads possibly know about the art of art?"

Patrick gave a silly grin, exposing his lone buck tooth. "More than you'd think, Squidward. In fact, I've already finished a piece of multimedia."

"My, that's a big word for you, Patrick," said Squidward. "And what might this so-called 'multimedia' be?"

"It's a Mr. Krabs site," said Patrick. He pulled a desktop computer out of his swim trunks and both SpongeBob and Squidward proceeded to watch the video on his monitor.

Except that it wasn't exactly a video. It was a static photograph of a woman dressed in a business suit. Her face was obscured with a poor drawing of Mr. Krabs' head. In the background, an adolescent voice squealed, "Oh yeah, Mr. Krabs!" before emitting the most ear-piercing scream anyone in Bikini Bottom had ever heard. It was so ear-piercing, in fact, that it alerted the attention of Monty P. Moneybags himself, who arrived at the Krusty Krab a good two days before his visit was supposed to take place.

"Uh-oh," grumbled Squidward, and hastily attempted to finish his self-portrait at the last possible minute.

"Well, would you look at this," said Mr. Moneybags as he stared at the "art" on Patrick's computer monitor. "Who in Neptune's name is responsible for this?"

"It was him!" yelled Squidward, pointing a tentacle at Patrick.

Monty P. Moneybags grinned at the chubby starfish in delight. "I dig your postmodern take on cubism, surrealism, impressionism, and expressionism, boy!"

"It wasn't easy," lied Patrick.

"And are you an employee of this fine dining establishment?" asked Mr. Moneybags.

"Can't say I am," said Patrick. "I was born in between jobs, and I'll be in between jobs when Davy Jones' locker freezes over."

"I see. Krabs, front and center!" roared Mr. Moneybags.

"Yes, Mr. Moneybags?" said Mr. Krabs, dollar signs visible in his lamp-like eyes.

"An eatery which refuses the employment of its community's talented artists is not an eatery that Monty P. Moneybags will endorse."

"I used to work for the Chum Bucket," said Patrick out of the blue. Without another word to the four of them, Mr. Moneybags proceeded to take his fifteen million dollars across the street.

"Aww, tartar sauce," said Mr. Krabs.

"Oh yeah, Mr. Krabs! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" responded Patrick's creation.


End file.
